In Beautiful Dreams
by MagicallyChallenged
Summary: They have the perfect life, or do they? Wemma


**Okay, so I basically realised I have never written anything rated below M, so yes I felt a) a teensy bit durteh and b) unfair to those of my readers who prefer not to constantly have the smut thrown at the me but still enjoy my work. So this is for those of you who read around my smut, and for those of you who like it too… don't worry the smut hasn't stopped, this is just something new I'm trying. I would really appreciate a review to let me know what you all think.**

**Special dedication goes out to two people, M for making my life easier everyday and for my self proclaimed protégé who is more than that to me, she's an awesome friend and a great idea runner. SunsABallOfButtah, this is for you. X**

It had been a long day; the sun was still casting a glare through the windows of the small music room that was filled with the sound of feet shuffling towards release, signifying the end of another practice. Will walked to his chair, letting himself fall into its fabric comfort, his eyes closing as his head fell back the relief washing over him with the thought that in three days time summer holiday would begin and with the summer came their annual family trip to England. It had originally started out as just him and Emma, but as the years progressed so did their family and his small, beat up old unreliable as he called her, graduated into a six birth people carrier complete with car seats and choruses of 'Are We There Yet?'.

He had almost drifted into a daydream when a rapping at his door woke him, the tapping of her heels on the hardwood flooring echoing due to the perfect acoustics the room boasted. He leant forward and smiled at the woman before him, her cherry red curls framing her porcelain face so perfectly, not a blemish or a wrinkle indicating her age, she still looked like the same woman he had fallen for ten years prior, nothing had changed. He still came to her with his problems, sat on the same arm of the same chair, as she without hesitation guided him on a path he should have subconsciously been headed up after years of her expert guidance. They still ate lunch together, and despite her hatred for the way the sauce from his ham and lettuce on rye would leak onto the cling-film, before continuing through another a barrier and into visibility, Emma still packed his lunch in a brown paper bag, still cut his sandwiches into neat halves and still tossed in, often cautiously and always sneakily, (incase the children saw and demanded to follow his sugar laced footsteps) a cookie filled with the chocolate chip inhabitants her husband was fond of. They still met at the end of each day, and left hand in hand the empty halls of a place that for them had become their biggest memory. He smiled, getting up from his chair and lifting his satchel onto the desk, the remnants of a tire mark and small shoe print lingering as reminders of the day he received this present.

_The star clad wrapping paper ripped off and tossed aside in anticipation of what lay beneath the masses of cello-tape and mischievous whispers. He lifted the flawless tan bag in the air by its handle, spinning it around like a puppet on a string being thoroughly inspected. His eyes wide open looking past the present and concentrating on the smiles and looks of happiness on the four faces sat in front of him, awaiting his reaction. After numerous declarations of adoration for the present and doling out hugs in multitudes to the small children he had proceeded to take his gifts to the study, all the while failing to notice the look on the face of his eldest and most perceptive child who glanced, her sea green eyes finding the amber pools of her mother, who was busy lighting candles on the cake, and questioning with a mere look why her father had looked so sad upon opening a gift they had spent week deliberating over. Emma hadn't answered but instead nodded towards her eldest daughter, an indication that meant they would talk about it later, when Will was completely out of earshot. It would be the next day before he realised as he reached for his new gift, intent on letting the children see his appreciation for their actions that he found himself staring at a now battered and worn looking satchel, the only indicator that it was his present was the paper tag hanging from the strap emblazoned with the multiple scrawls of his children wishing him 'Happy Birthday'. As the night had drawn in previous, under the cover of moonlight, the stars twinkling lightly in the cerulean sky, the Schuester children, under the watchful supervision of their mother, snuck into their fathers study as he slept soundly in a chair nestled in the far corner of the room. Picking up the leather bag they made their way to the front yard where they proceeded to ride over it on bikes they'd wished for verbally and in blue ink and the little ones, who could barely walk added their additions by stamping their feet as their hands clapped in a coordinated dance they had recently perfected. _

Filling the bag with crumpled papers festooned with impressions of sombreros and barely readable end of year exams, he smiled, watching the way his wife stood silently, her eyes twinkling with an adoration he had experienced the passing of in his previous relationship. As he buckled the bag shut, swung it over his shoulder and stepped out from behind his desk he felt her warmth as her side moulded into his, their hands entwining and her curls draping over his shoulder they began to exit their work lives and with the welcome breaths of fresh air they took the moment their feet stepped out of the building, their real life began. A mess of dance classes, soccer practices, Band rehearsals and Piano recitals all tied up with a bow and arranged neatly on both the dangerously white pages of Emmas diary, and the electronic one they kept in the car. As they reached their vehicle, Will opening the passenger side and helping his wife inside, acts of chivalry one thing he never gave up on even after all these years, he made his way around to the driver's seat and before he did anything, took her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks as his lips moved towards hers meeting in a kiss that had spanned a lifetime. Settling back in his seat, he pulled the seatbelt across himself, before turning the key and heading in the direction of the Elementary school that had been subject to much discussion and scrutiny when the time to educate the Schuester children had arrived.

Pulling up outside the large grey bricked building, the archways guarded by gargoyles that most children avoided looking in the eyes, Will noticed those four faces he had memorized in wishes and dreams. Walking towards the car he saw first words, first steps, first shoes and first teeth all turn, in the blink of an eye, into first goals at soccer practice, first guitars, and first finger paintings. The doors opened and as the older children strapped the twins into their car seats, the humming of the latest Fall Out Boy song masqued by regales of how a foul in the box had brought along the penalty that led to the first goal their son had scored, mixed in with the argument consisting of why blue paint was better than red. Will looked over at Emma, amidst the loud noises and instructions of the next places to drop the children off and enquiries' concerning what was for dinner, they still found a solace and silence in one another that allowed them to attend to this situation effectively. They balanced each other out, enabled fair choices and even fairer chances, one thing they had both agreed on when they discussed the possibility of children was that a full schedule was important but nothing was as important as spending time together and so when Emma raised her voice to announce they were eating out, the cheers came as no surprise to her.

They weren't the perfect family, they never spontaneously broke out into song, they never sat around the large shiny black grand that haunted their living room, in fact that was only rarely dusted off and attended to around the holiday period, each adult preferring to spend time indulging themselves in their children.

_Will often drove Ava and Byron to band practice, a guitar slung around the back of the long red haired girl while two wooden drumsticks peeked out of the back pocket of the baggy jeans his son donned. He would sit on an old black amp that had seen better days and watch proudly as Ava would, with ease, strum lightly and play chords he had spent years mastering his heart beating to the rhythm his son played on the drums, a look on his face that was a typical characteristic of a percussionist, sheer determination and concentration. He would stay for hours, not interfering but wondering, or rather being enraptured in wonderment at how amazingly talented, and professional his children were, and how quickly they had grown up. As he watched his daughter look up from her hands and smile, he remembered how once this pearly white smile had boasted gaps that smacked of aging, how the first one had come loose and with a scream at the tiny spatter of blood he had held her in his arms and lulled her to sleep with the tale of the tooth fairy. Her body rising and falling against his own, as her spoke of a castle built from only the best of lost teeth, and how if she placed her tooth underneath her pillow that night, when she awoke the next day she would find the tooth gone and in its place something the fairy had seen as a fair exchange. As he slid from beneath the duvet, pulling it up over the tiny frame of his daughter who was every inch her mother he bent down and let his lips graze her forehead. One of the only times he could get away with kissing her, for the next day she ran down the stairs the a silver charm bracelet dangling from her arm and the smile of a young woman on her face, Will knew his baby girl was gone. _

_His son however, never seemed to buy the whole castle full of teeth story, and regardless of the aging process had always remained as close to Will as he ever had been. They still took one day a week to play soccer, just the two of them and occasionally they would venture to the lakes and embark on camping trips that made the two of them realise how grateful they were to have someone to cook for them, after all Will tried but living off smores for a weekend only made for sore stomachs and even worse sugar come downs. He thought about when the summer came, and how as soon as dinner was out of the way, they would sneak into the garden and toss about a ball, talking about music, and sports. The only indication Will received that his son wasn't the same two year old he spun in circles while attached to his back was when the neighbor girl walked past one night, and instead of sticking his tongue out in disgust and throwing the ball back to Wills expectant hands, Byron let his arms fall to his sides, his eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as the pretty brunette smiled over her shoulder and raised her hand to wave. Will knew that eventually nights like this would be a thing of the past, but for now at least he intended on keeping them. _

_Emma enjoyed the simplicities of being at home with the twins, both identical in looks yet completely different in personality. It had been a surprise for Will and Emma when the doctor announced, after five years of failed attempts to expand their family, which the reason for Emmas feinting episode was due to excessively high hormones that was normal when carrying multiples. After getting over the initial shock, both Emma and Will had found themselves proudly reveling in the double addition soon to join their already happy home. Emma spent her days knitting booties in pastels of lemon and green, colours deemed neutral while reading the masses of baby books remaining from her previous pregnancies. Her nights spent relaxing in the arms of her husband, his hands tracing the ever expanding bump that protected something their love had created. While most husbands became less attentive to the needs of their wives during these times and more concerned about the babies, Will found his attraction for his wife increasing, many nights, after a long soak in a lavender filled bubble bath, he would carry Emma, bridal style to their no longer child filled bed and make love to her until the dawn broke through their curtains and gave light to a new morn. He would lay in their bed, her in his arms, not asleep, not awake but drifting in and out of a subconscious world created by the soothing tones of his voice as he read through a small list of classics they had collected separately during their single lives but had found themselves complete when they finally moved in together. The relaxing quality with which he read each line, delving into world after world created by the most amazing literary minds and making sure that she thoroughly enjoyed each trip, making sure to be extra attentive when walking Alice past the Mad Hatters Tea Party, when flying Wendy through the Never Lands and when helping the young heroines escape the clutches of many a wicked step mother hidden in the pages of the Brothers Grimm's epic collection of tales. He would crawl out of bed, leaving her to rest a while, the eventual smell of bacon and pancakes filling the house and as he returned to the silence he left, he would be greeted by the cheeky grins of his children who had crawled in beside their mother, for warmth and safety. It was something he remembered happening almost like watching the pages of a flip book, one day it was Emma, in her arms their beautiful daughter, her red hair in ringlets befitting of a princess, the next time he glanced their son had taken root in the open space on Emma left, and the final time he took note of the space in his life he realised how two more faces made his life seem full. Two tiny people, four tiny hands and feet, big blue eyes with expectations of the man before them, expectations he would try his best to live up to and two smiles he would always keep from turning into frowns. As the years passed he would often come home from taking the older kids to band practice and be greeted with the smell of freshly baked pastries emanating from the kitchen. Making his way through the hallway he stopped at the entrance to find three flour smudged faces, smiles with the jammy evidence lingering in the corners and the most creatively decorated cupcakes from his twin angels cooling on a nearby rack. Life was good for him, life was full and happy and he never intended on losing it._

As they pulled up outside the small Cantonese restaurant they often frequented, the older children unbuckling each of the younger girls and assisting them in exiting the vehicle, Will smiled a feeling of peace washing over him, soothing his heart. He walked around to the passenger side and offering Emma his hand they ventured inside, eyes scanning for the sea of blonde broken by the cherry red curls he had wished for his eldest to have. Sitting down and ordering, followed with waiting then eating and while watching how his children interacted, their giggles as Byron tried as he always did to master the art of eating with chopsticks, failing miserably as yet another piece of meat flew across the table and landed on the plate of Aria who, after glancing knowingly at her twin who, sporting the same blonde plaits that hung at their shoulders, used the wooden utensils in her hands to pick up the meat before flicking it back. Will stifled a laugh and looked at his wife who was sitting to the right of him, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide at the sight of their children passing food to each other through the air. It had taken every ounce of her willpower not to stand up from the table and leave for cleaner pastures but as they years had passed, Emma had managed to control her issues with cleanliness, understanding that with each messy handprint on the whitest of shirts, and with each splatter shaped stain of hot cocoa on her carpet from nights curled up in front of the fire came apologies and hugs which sustained her natural instinct to get on her hands and knees and scrub, saving it until her children were tucked up in their beds, out of sight of her problems. She allowed her eyes to travel across the table to her eldest daughter who as looking at her with wide eyes and a knowing look, her legs extending beneath the table and kicking sharply at the shins of her brother who cast a look Emmas way and mouthed an apology before picking up a fork and continuing with his meal. Wills hand found his wife's in a reassuring squeeze that they had perfected over the years.

After finishing their meal and driving home, the journey being much quieter than the ride there, due to excessive tiredness induced by the late hours and the comfort of a full stomach. Will felt an ease wash over him, glancing over at his wife who was staring back at him a content smile painted on her beautiful face. He took his hand from the gear shift and allowed it to find hers giving it a squeeze before bringing it to meet his lips in a gentle motion that warmed her heart. Settling back into his chair and releasing her hand, his eyes gravitated towards the rearview mirror, as he listened to the synchronized subtle snoozing of his children as they lay together the older ones with their heads on the windows and the younger two lying so close their noses touched. He watched the rise and fall of their chests, and the flutter of an occasional eyelid and it brought him a peace, a soothing feeling most people yearned to find. Life had been good to him, given him a woman he adored, four children to fill and break his heart, a steady job and a modest home. If he had to say when he felt most at ease it was simple times, times like these. Pulling into the driveway and stepping out of the car he opened the back doors, first he scooped his eldest daughter into his arms, his hands reaching under her legs and a smile finding its way to his face as her head fell acceptingly to his chest. The last time he had carried her like this; she was five years old and had just come home from the hospital after a long day of meeting her newest siblings. After that day she had declared she was too big for her father to carry her anymore, his arms and secure hold now belonged to the two fresh faces in their home. He often missed this closeness with his eldest daughter but as Emma explained to him every night, 'Children eventually grow up Will… some sooner than others', he regressed back to a line from a book his mother had read to him, 'Two is the beginning of the end…' glancing down at the beautiful young woman in his arms he couldn't help but agree with this and wonder exactly when it was she has ceased being so reliant, was it the day she slid her feet into her shoes and tied her own laces without prompts, was it the day she let her fingers dance along the lines of letters, repeating the words perfectly or was it earlier than that, did she simply open her eyes , take one look at the world around her and realise she had the power to be whoever she wanted to be, all she had to do was grow up. Walking her up the stairs and placing her gently on her bed he pulled the covers up to her shoulders before kissing her forehead and running his fingers through her waist length cherry curls.

After lifting Byron into his room and getting the twins in bed with Emma's assistance they made their way to the small room just off the study, fresh lemon coloured linens hugging the bed and the smell of lavender drifting around the room on the cool breeze flowing through the window. Pulling his wife into his arms he moved in slow circles, their hands entwined and resting between their chests as they danced to sounds of silence that encompassed their home. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of cherries that lingered in her hair, clinging to her like he wished he could, moving her across the floor before lying her back on the bed, his lips finding hers her like it was their first kiss. Night snuck in, the dimming light from the stars twinkling in the sky sneaking in through the sheer fabric of the curtains, throwing the silhouette of the lovers onto the pastel green wall now darkened by the night.

His fingers running through her hair as they fell into a deep sleep, his breath warm on her neck and her body perfectly moulded into his own.

He had only been asleep for what felt like a few minutes when the sounds of his cell ringing woke him, sitting up he ran his fingers through his curls and stretched into a yawn that allowed his eyes time to readjust to the light that was shining through the windows. Swinging his legs around and standing up he let his eyes scan the room for his satchel, finding it exactly where he left it last. He walked over to his bag and bent to pick it up, staring in curiosity at the marks on the front, searching frantically for the footprints and tire marks, he ran his fingers over the once harsh material but found nothing. He shook his head and stretched to a standing position, eyes darting over to the doorway where voices and a slight giggle filled the hallway. Stepping out of the room and looking to his right he saw her, cherry curls bouncing and a laugh that was unmistakably Emma. Her amber eyes glistening and a smile dancing on her lips, the same smile she had given him as they held each of their babies for the first time. She reached out her hand and Wills face fell, instead of the small, sticky hands of the twins or the callous drum beating hands of Byron, or even the soft talented hand of Ava sliding their way into her grip a large skilled hand found hers tentatively, the owner looking at her with eyes of adoration Will claimed as his own. He opened his mouth to shout her name but despite how hard he tried, he couldn't muster a sound and instead he watched forlorn as she giggled her way out of the school and out of his life, and right into the arms of a man who would quick as a flash pick up the pieces of a broken heart Will left behind in attempts to 'find himself'. Will let his back fall to the wall, sliding down to the floor and resting his head in his lap, for he finally found himself, every time he closed his eyes, and on occasion he found more than himself, he found life and it was perfect, sure it had its ups and downs, but it had more than that. It had laughter, tears, music and colour, birthdays, gappy smiles, scraped knees and nights snuggled on the sofa drinking cocoa and watching movies… and it had her, he had her and she had him, and they had them…. But only in dreams, in beautiful dreams.

**Don't forget to review…. please**


End file.
